What you knead

It’s been quite the day of culinary experiments in my house. Hubby decided he was in the mood to expand his already-respectable cooking repertoire and settled on Gordon Ramsay’s pork belly recipe as his adventure of choice. However, he quickly found out pork belly is harder to find in Indianapolis than a shred of hope for this year’s Colts team. The guys at Kincaid’s finally came through with a cut and I was subsequently banished from the kitchen while hubby got down to business.

Once the belly had baked, an afternoon-long waiting period ensued. I took this as my cue to get into the kitchen for some baking of my own. Wracking my brain for something to do with the fresh dill in my refrigerator, I recalled a card in my recipe box for dill onion bread. Or, in my house, dill bread. (Tangent – I fed the toddler his first taste of onions the other night in an omelet, and he loved them. But I digress…)

If I remember correctly, I believe I got this recipe from my mom years ago, but I don’t recall her ever actually making it. Thinking it would be a fun activity to share, I enlisted the toddler to help. My little sous chef did a surprisingly good job, and was pleased as punch to help me measure out ingredients, stir them together and even knead out a little loaf of his very own.

Recipes that require things like yeast and precise timing intimidate me a little bit. Even though I’ve made bread before, I couldn’t help but fear throughout the whole process that I was doing something terribly wrong and would wind up with flat loaves as hard as hockey pucks. Have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised at how simple this bread was to make. There’s not much to it, really, not many ingredients and quite a bit of downtime in the middle. I mixed the dough, kneaded it smooth (a very soothing tactile motion, if you ask me) and put it in a bowl on top of the stove to proof.

bread dough on the rise

Happily, it rose like magic. I let it double and punched it down as per the directions, brushed it with egg white and let the toddler sprinkle sesame seeds on top. Into the pans for a second rise, and then into the oven it went.

Thirty minutes later, voila. Real live actual bread. Somehow, we managed to resist cutting into the fragrant little loaves as soon as they came out of the oven and instead, saved them for dinner.

fresh baked dill bread hot out of the oven

The results: the pork belly was wonderfully flavorful, but extremely rich. There’s really very little meat to be had on this cut of pork; it’s mostly fat. Imagine a big slab of roasted bacon and you’ll start to get the idea. I can’t imagine how Gordon fans eat big squares of this stuff. The English cuts must be much leaner is all I can figure.  Still, it tasted yummy and the crunchy greasy crackling on top was delicious, a huge hit with the toddler.

pork belly and roasted veg a la hubby

The bread was the teensiest bit dry (I think I got worried that it would still be gummy inside and left it baking a little longer than I should have), but basically it was good. Nice and crusty on the outside, tender and soft within. The dill flavor was very subtle, and went perfectly with the pork belly and the fantastic roasted vegetables hubby served alongside.

sliced dill bread

My son was super proud of “his” bread, and declared it much better than “mommy’s bread.” Watch out, Gordon. You might just have some up-and-coming competition…

the toddler enjoying the fruits of his labor

Role reversal

In a curious turn of events, hubby has been jobhunting during the past month and I’ve been the temporary breadwinner, busy full-time working on various freelance writing assignments. No complaints, though. I’ve been lucky enough to receive some pretty plum jobs that have allowed me to write about two of my favorite subjects — food and travel. The only real downsides to this situation are that 1) I haven’t had as much time as I’d like lately to spend with my little guy and 2) I’ve barely been cooking at all.

Have to say, hubby has really embraced the whole domestic scene and is doing a great job at keeping the house running like a well-oiled machine, including meal preparation. On one recent occasion, I happened to walk in to get a glass or something out of the cabinet while he was cooking and was promptly ordered to “get out of MY kitchen.” This may be taking things a LITTLE too far…

Hubby had a few solid dishes under his belt to begin with, but he’s really taken them to a new level over the past few weeks. He’s definitely got the homemade pizza thing nailed. A neighbor and I were enjoying a glass of wine on the back patio during a warm evening about two weeks ago when hubby decided to whip one up. You should have seen her face when he brought it out, hot, steaming and fragrant from the oven. She was so impressed, she called the next day to ask him for tips so she could make one at her house.

hubby's homemade pepperoni pizza

Hubby uses store-bought refrigerated crust, but I fully expect that it’s only a matter of time before he’s cranking out his own from scratch. I haven’t even witnessed what he does to make his ‘za so good, but I believe it involves simply tomato paste, cheese, pepperoni and the lightest drizzle of olive oil. A sprinkling of the herbes de Provence I purchased on our last visit to France in the fall seems to be the secret ingredient. I’m telling ya, that little packet I bought at a street market in Aix for a couple of euros has proven to possess damn near magical qualities — a little pinch utterly transforms everything from roasted meat and veggies to pasta sauce. I’m tempted to try it in muffins or scones. If you ever see an herbes de Provence blend in the supermarket, pick up a jar and try it for yourself in almost any savory dish. You won’t be sorry.

But I digress, back to bragging about my husband… the other dish he’s really been jazzed about perfecting lately is pot pie. This is sort of an unlikely fixation for him; he’s never requested or even mentioned an affinity for pot pie prior to eating a chicken version he proclaimed awesome at the Red Lion Grog House in Fountain Square a few weeks ago.

Again, using plain old store-bought pie crust, he’s been able to produce some interesting and delicious results. First, a lightly sauced chicken pot pie stuffed with shredded meat, chopped carrots and celery. Even better, though, is his beef version, made using his Guinness beef stew recipe, which I already love. Playing around with presentation, his latest attempt included some little ceramic ramekins he filled with the stew and covered with rounds of dough, and also some mini-pies that made using muffin tins. I liked the ramekins, I thought they would be adorable for a fancy dinner party, but hubby preferred the muffin versions, saying they reminded him more of the authentic pies he’s eaten in England. No matter, both were delicious.

adorable individual pot pies

muffin-tin pot pies

With several big assignments now turned in and off my plate, my freelance schedule looks to be lightening up a hair. Hopefully I’ll have enough breathing room to revisit my pots, pans and knives this week and make sure they haven’t forgotten me. If I can wrestle hubby out of “his” kitchen, that is…

Wham bam biscotti

My macaron mojo has apparently left the building. I hosted a book club meeting at my house on Sunday night and was intent on dropping a batch of these babies on my guests. If you’ll recall from my previous posts, my most recent attempt at macarons didn’t go so well.

The first few batches I made at the first of the year turned out beautifully, with little “feet” at the bottom of the cookies and everything. Must have been beginner’s luck, because the last time I tried to make them about a month ago, all sorts of things went wrong. First, the dough wasn’t loose enough and the cookies cracked and bubbled as they baked. Then, the dough was too wet and they didn’t rise at all. One thing after another, yadda yadda yadda. Three batches in a row – all disastrous.

On Sunday afternoon, I felt up for another go. Mixed the batter, piped them out and realized they were too stiff. Proud of myself for recognizing the problem while I still had time to correct it, I scraped them back into the bowl, whipped up a couple more egg whites, folded them into the batter and tried again. As they rested on the cookie sheets before baking, they looked much better. Even my piping was fairly consistent. I thought to myself “now that’s more like it! Finally!”

It came time to throw them in the oven, but when the timer went off and I took them out, they looked pathetic. Bubbly and full of holes, barely risen. Disgusted, I tossed them straight into the trashcan without even sampling one and started looking for other cookie recipes to make for my gals. You win, macarons. I give up.

After some consideration, I came across a butterscotch biscotti recipe I’d made once before several years ago. Hm. I had all the ingredients on hand, and it required no sifting or electric mixing. I was suddenly back in business.

The recipe I was using as a blueprint called for a few tablespoons of bourbon and the additions of butterscotch chips and almonds. I can’t make anything like this without putting my own individual stamp on it, so I replaced the bourbon with coffee and left out the chips and nuts, figuring I’d work them in as toppings later.

After I’d mixed the dough, the directions said to shape it into two flat logs. Only problem with this was that the dough seemed very wet and sticky, so every time I tried to flatten it into the requisite shape, it soundly refused to go quietly into that good night. It stuck to my hands like glue and was impossible to form correctly. I somehow figured out to wet my hands in between pats to coax it into the right shape, stuck it in the oven and nervously hoped for the best.

Lo and behold, after the required 20 minutes, the dough had risen into little flat domes just like it was supposed to. I breathed a huge sigh of relief and took the loaves out of the oven. Once they are cool enough to handle, you slice them thinly to make the biscotti and then stick them back in the oven to toast on all sides, turning every few minutes or so until they’re golden brown and crunchy all over.

You can either mix stuff into the dough to flavor it from the get go – chocolate chips, spices, nuts, etc. – or you can follow my lead and dress up the cookies once they’re baked. I melted some chocolate chips in the microwave with a tiny bit of cream to make a quick ganache, which I then used to frost the biscotti on one side. It still needed a little something to increase the wow factor, so I sprinkled chopped almonds on some and toasted sesame seeds on others. You may think sesame an odd choice in this instance, but I’m telling ya, it was awesome.  Almost like a peanut flavor, and a great combo with the chocolate.

All in all, the biscotti went over well. In fact, I just whipped up another batch this afternoon. Take that, macarons.

Basic biscotti

(Makes about two dozen)

Ingredients:

1/2 c. butter, melted

1 cup brown sugar, packed lightly

4 tablespoons strong coffee, cooled (or replace with bourbon or brandy if you want to get a little crazy!)

4 eggs

2 tsp. Vanilla

2 1/2 c. flour

1 1/2 tsp. Baking powder

1/4 tsp. Kosher salt

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

In a large bowl, mix the melted butter, brown sugar and coffee until smooth. Add the eggs one by one, mixing well to incorporate between each addition, then stir in the vanilla. Add the flour, baking powder and salt, mix well to combine.

Line two rectangular baking sheets with parchment paper or Silpat. Divide the dough evenly between the two cookie sheets and shape each into one long flat log around 1/2 inch high. Try to spread the dough as evenly as you can, wetting your hands lightly as you go to prevent sticking.

Bake the logs for 18 to 20 minutes, rotating the pans once at the halfway mark, until dough is solid and has risen slightly. Remove the baking sheets from the oven and let cool slightly.

When the dough is cool enough to handle, transfer each log onto a large cutting board. Using a long, serrated bread knife, slice the dough on a diagonal into 1/2 inch widths. Return all the cookies back to the baking sheets, placing them on their sides and spacing them out as far as possible.

Put the cookies back in the oven for another 15 to 20 minutes, flipping all the cookies over once halfway through the baking time. When they’re light golden brown and toasted on both sides, they’re done.

(As I mentioned before, there are all sorts of ways you can jazz these up:  mix chocolate chips, butterscotch chips or nuts into the dough before baking; or frost/glaze them with icing of your choice, then sprinkle with chopped nuts or jimmies.)

Buon appetito!

chocolate almond and chocolate sesame biscotti

Puff daddy

One word strikes fear into the heart of cooks and chefs everywhere. And that word is… soufflé.  When made correctly, it’s sublime, but there is perhaps no other recipe so fraught with potential for disaster.

Souffle can be a finicky little bugger. If you don’t give it the love, attention and respect it deserves, it can pout and refuse to rise to the occasion, so to speak. It will show you who’s boss by emerging from the oven sad, flat and floppy instead of heavenly light and pillowy — a mere baked omelet instead of the puffy, fluffy masterpiece it was intended to be.

Hubby just got home last night from another work trip. When we got up this morning and saw the snow blanketing down (AGAIN. Ugh.), we decided to skip our planned yoga class and hole up inside for the day instead. Our thoughts turned to food, and hubby mentioned a “soufflé omelet” one of his colleagues enjoyed during a breakfast meeting the other day. Then he said, “Why don’t you ever make stuff like that?” I immediately bristled at this passive-aggressive comment and took offense. You want a soufflé, buddy? You got it.

I’ve made soufflés a couple of times before, but haven’t banged one out for a long time. And I have made them for hubby in the past, which he’s conveniently forgotten. No matter. I was up for the challenge.

The only soufflé recipe I’ve ever used is a Julia Child cheese version. Now, those of you who’ve ever prepared a Julia recipe know right away that her directions are going to make everything sound ten times more complicated than it needs to be, and you’re going to dirty every pot and pan in your kitchen before it’s all said and done. On the upside, your finished product is going to be delicious.

Souffles are one of those dishes that go a long way on just a few ingredients. Basically, all you need are eggs, milk, butter, a little flour and any ingredients you want to use as flavoring — cheese, sugar, melted chocolate, Grand Marnier, what have you. Since our soufflé was intended to serve as a late breakfast, we included shredded sharp cheddar cheese, slivered ham and a little diced red pepper. (Some sautéed onion would have made a nice addition, but you all know my audience…)

You start by greasing up an oven-safe casserole dish with butter and dusting it with grated parmesan cheese. This gives the eggs something to grab onto as they rise so impossibly high up the sides of the dish.

Next, you make a thick béchamel sauce on your stovetop by melting butter into flour to make a roux and adding milk, salt, pepper and a little nutmeg. Take it off the heat and stir in your egg yolks (just the yolks, mind you), shredded cheese and other flavoring ingredients.

Meanwhile, the egg whites come into play in a separate bowl (told you this was labor-intensive). Whip the heck out of them with an electric hand-mixer until they reach the stiff peak stage. As I’ve learned the hard way, you have to be painstakingly careful when separating your eggs. If there’s even the tiniest hint of egg yolk in the mix, they won’t whip up.

Once that’s done, fold the whipped whites into the béchamel, ever so gently so as to avoid deflating the whole concoction, and pour the whole mess into your casserole dish. Transfer it into the oven, set your timer for 30 minutes, cross your fingers and hope for the best. If all is well, you’ll see your soufflé slowly making its way up the dish as it bakes, but you’ll have to content yourself with watching it through the window. Don’t open the oven door, no matter how tempting it is. You’ll let in a rush of air that can disrupt the steady temperature and screw it all up.

When the timer goes off, if your culinary prayers have been answered, you should open the door to find a lovely, browned dome of feather-light eggs.

cheese souffle just out of the oven

Serve immediately to achieve maximum oohs and aahs; the soufflé immediately starts to sink back down the second it comes out of the heat. Tap into the crusty top and scoop out a big steaming serving. Don’t be shy. The consistency is so light and airy, you can eat a ton of this without stuffing yourself.

just look at that eggy lusciousness!

If you want to cut corners or you just don’t have the patience, stick to making an omelet or a frittata. But if you really want to impress your guests at brunch or turn out something truly romantic for a special-occasion breakfast, a soufflé is a great way to go.

Book swap sweets

Last night, I hosted a small group of friends for a book swap, hoping it would serve as a foundation to launch a book club. To sweeten the deal, I plied my guests with wine and desserts.

After perusing recipes for days, I finally decided to make a sour cream banana cake with peanut butter buttercream frosting, and chocolate fudge macarons with marshmallow filling.

the spread

The cake was easy to make and turned out to be moist and fantastic. The peanut butter frosting was delicious, too, a sinful concoction of butter, cream cheese, powdered sugar and creamy Jif that I couldn’t stop eating by the spoonful. It was almost too sweet, but a good complement to the banana flavor. (I ate another big slice for breakfast this morning when no one was looking.)

Sour cream banana cake with peanut butter buttercream frosting

I seriously toyed with the idea of topping the whole thing with some crumbled brown sugar bacon and calling it an “Elvis Cake,” but time got away from me. Mainly because, for whatever reason, I lost my macaron mojo.

After four or five great first efforts, I could not make a decent macaron yesterday to save my life. I don’t know if the batter was too stiff, the house was too dry or what, but the first batch of cookies cracked and completely dried out. Figuring it must have been a fluke, I whipped up another batch. Same story, different cookie sheet. Edible and appropriately chocolaty, mind you, but not the right texture or appearance at all. They were way too crunchy, more like a little meringue button than a crusty-chewy macaron. By this point, I was getting the process down to a science. Figuring the third time had to be the charm, I made one last-ditch attempt. My last effort turned out the closest to correct macarons, but still not perfect. Sigh. I gave up, schmeared them with marshmallow fluff and served them anyway. No one seemed to mind.

a semi-successful macaron

By the way, I had totally forgotten what a wonderful thing marshmallow fluff is. O.M.G. I predict several fluffer-nutter sandwiches showing up in this week’s lunch menus…

If at first you don’t succeed, keep on baking.

Double whammy

Still trying to perfect my techniques, I whipped up a fairly labor-intensive dinner last night of homemade pasta AND more macarons. Glutton for punishment? Nah. I’m feeling more and more comfortable with both endeavors and won’t rest until I’ve nailed them.

First up, more macarons. Chocolate, to be exact. A pretty easy adaptation; you merely add a little cocoa powder to the powdered sugar and almonds. Trying to streamline, I decided to experiment by cutting a few corners to see if they’d make a difference. First of all, I decided not to sweat the sifting. I just stirred the almonds, powdered sugar and cocoa together as thoroughly as I could and hoped for the best. Next, I used a Baggie for my piping as opposed to my pastry bag (which is a bitch to clean after use). When I was done, I just popped the Baggie in the trash can and that was that. Two big time-savers right off the bat!

Recipes I’ve consulted offer varying opinions about how long to bake macarons and at what temperature. My last lemon batch was tasty, but almost a little too chewy, so I left my chocolate macarons in the oven a little longer than I have my prior two attempts. Around 16-17 minutes instead of the usual 12-13. In the meantime, I simply melted chocolate chips with Half and Half in the microwave and stirred in a tiny bit of butter to make a quick ganache filling.

Final results? The cookies looked great. They smelled great. They tasted great, EXCEPT, they were overbaked. Way too crunchy without a hint of their trademark chewiness. Hmph. Apparently 16-17 minutes is too long – live and learn. If it wasn’t for that minor flaw, this might have been my best batch yet! The other shortcuts I took didn’t seem to affect the outcome at all. Good to know. One more time, and I think I’ll have it sorted.

overbaked chocolate macarons

For our entree, I pulled out the new pasta machine again and rolled out a couple mounds of dough. It still boggles my mind that all you have to do is knead a few eggs into some flour and bam – noodles. I rolled through the dough into long, fragile sheets and laid them out to dry while hubby helped me concoct a quick bolognese sauce with Italian sausage (the Marsh butcher counter is the best place in town for bulk Italian sausage, IMHO). I’m more a sweet sausage fan, but hubby likes it spicy, so we blended a pound of each. The results – delicious, with a nice but not overpowering kick of heat.

We boiled the pasta briefly to soften. In retrospect, it might have been smart to cut the pasta to size before boiling it – the pasta expanded as it cooked, and we had a hell of time trying to fish the sheets out of the scalding water without ripping them and/or hard-boiling our fingers in the process.

Finally, I got the lasagna assembled and threw it in the oven for about 30 minutes. Our lovely neighbors agreed to join us as taste testers. At long last, the oven buzzer rang and I delivered the steaming dish of bubbly cheesy goodness to the table, along with a bowl of quick-boiled green beans and slices of the French bread our neighbors had contributed.

homemade lasagna with fresh noodles

The lasagna was, well, it was fantastic. The fresh noodles are labor intensive to create, but they make such a HUGE difference – the texture was light and simply melted in my mouth, not a trace of the chewiness that I hate. And the sauce was awesome. I have to admit, hubby made a great call with adding in a bit of the hot sausage for punch. It was excellent. (AND he washed the entire mountain of dishes my efforts produced. Bless him. He’s a keeper.) Even the toddler scarfed down some of the leftover noodle “rags” with a little bit of sauce and some cheese on top.

All in all, a great meal shared with great friends. What more could a person want?

Macarons, part deux

Figuring I’d keep striking while the oven’s hot, this afternoon marked my second foray into the macaron-making process. Flavor du jour — lemon.

I’m quickly deducing that sifting the almond meal is my least-favorite and most time-consuming step of the whole recipe. It took forever, scattered almond crumbs all over the kitchen, and I had to use two separate sieves because they kept clogging up. After I’d finally sifted an entire lightly packed cup’s worth, I breathed a huge sigh of relief and stirred it through the powdered sugar.

Instead of mixing vanilla bean into the batter, this time I went with lemon zest and a few drops of yellow food coloring. Unfortunately, when I mixed the almond meal/powdered sugar in, the dark flecks of almond made the whole concoction look like Dijon mustard. Not exactly appealing. The appearance improved somewhat after baking, but the yellow food coloring got totally lost somewhere along the way. (If anyone knows a trick for achieving a uniform color and consistency, I’m all ears.)

For the filling, I whipped up a batch of homemade lemon curd in a double boiler, another first and not too difficult to do. After an hour in the fridge, it was DELICIOUS, a sort of ridiculously thick, rich lemon frosting.

Again, the texture and taste of the cookies turned out well, but the appearance is still not perfect in my discriminating eyes. I slathered on the lemon curd and started assembling them, but the curd was so thick, I shattered several of the delicate cookies before getting the hang of just how much pressure to use. And I overdid the lemon curd on the first few — as it warmed to room temperature, it melted a little bit and oozed down the sides of the macarons. No matter. I’ll save the “mistakes” for myself.

a few of the more photogenic final products

I’ve got tons of lemon curd leftover. This may call for a batch of scones…

Macaron madness

According to the food media, macarons are the new cupcake. I, for one, am completely happy to jump on this bandwagon in support. When I say macaron, I’m not talking about those outdated mounds of coconut and egg white your grandma used to make; I’m referring to the beautiful little silver dollar-sized mouthfuls of deliciousness you find in France. These little beauties have made their way across the pond, and are steadily making a name for themselves right here in Indianapolis. You can find them around town without too much trouble — Circle City Sweets and Taste are two locations that immediately come to mind.

I was first taken with les belles macarons during our visit to Paris nearly two years ago, and was happy to make their reacquaintance during a long weekend there in November. Within the windows of every patisserie we walked past, and there were MANY, there they were. Mouthwatering rainbows of the tempting gem-like little cookies in all flavors and colors. I only wish I could have tasted them all, but at a euro or so each, I had to be somewhat selective about sampling.

In simplest terms, a macaron is a flat meringue cookie sandwich. The cookies themselves have a shatteringly thin glassy surface that gives way to a slightly chewy interior and some sort of sinful filling in the middle. Chocolate cookies with chocolate ganache, pistachio, lemon, berries, mocha — the possibilities are endless, as you saw if you watched the inaugural season of Top Chef Just Desserts. Morgan turned out a “red hot” macaron with chocolate filling, and a blackberry version that looked divine.

Last night, we ended up hosting an impromptu New Year’s Eve get-together with our neighbor friends down the street, and I decided macarons would be a lovely addition to our hors d’oeuvres table. Since I’d already put together some chocolate custards as a sweet treat, I chose to create a vanilla bean macaron with raspberry filling. Armed with a recipe from the current issue of Bon Appetit and encouraged by two YouTube macaron demonstrations, I started plotting my approach.

On paper, macarons look deceptively simple to make, but hold your horses. It’s not as easy as it sounds to pull them off and come away with the elusive “foot” on the bottoms that allows you to correctly sandwich the cookies together.

There are really only three ingredients for the cookie part of the program — powdered sugar, egg whites and almond flour — plus whatever flavoring agents you might want to incorporate. Now here’s the first challenge: almond flour is not a commonly available ingredient. In fact, I wasn’t even sure what it was, although the Bon Appetit recipe said it was sometimes just labeled as ground almonds. A trip to the Marsh baking aisle uncovered barley flour, spelt flour, buckwheat flour, rice flour and several shelves full of other specialty flours, but no almond flour. Hmph. Fortunately, Trader Joe’s came to my rescue. I quickly located a bag of almond meal that I assumed was what I wanted. $3.99 later, I was appropriated supplied and ready to bake.

Here’s the drill, you sift the almond flour/meal with the powdered sugar (not as easy as it sounds because the almonds tend to gunk up the sieve), then you whip the room-temp egg whites with a tiny bit of sugar until they hit the medium peak stage (I added the vanilla bean here). Fold the almond-powdered sugar into the egg whites in stages until just combined, then carefully spoon the batter into a pastry bag. (A Baggie with the corner cut out will do in a pinch if you don’t have a pastry bag in your culinary arsenal.)

Pipe the batter onto a parchment paper-covered cookie sheet in 1/2-inch blobs about an inch and a half apart and then leave them be for about 30 minutes. They will spread out and become very flat, but don’t worry. This is what you want. Don’t be tempted to cut corners and put them in the oven immediately – the YouTube demo said to wait until the surface is slightly hardened and you can touch it with your finger without it sticking. Something about doing this helps them bake up the right way.

While you wait, you can prepare your filling. In my case, I simmered fresh raspberries with sugar, cornstarch and a little orange juice until thickened, then strained the mixture to remove the seeds.

Once they’re “gelled,” the macarons bake at 290-300 degrees for about 15 minutes, rotating the pans halfway through. When they come out, cool them on the sheet and then carefully peel them off the parchment paper. Spread a little filling on each side and stick them together to create the sandwiches. Voila – macarons!

my vanilla bean macarons with raspberry filling

I definitely need more practice piping so all my cookies come out consistently the same size, but overall, I was pretty darn pleased with my first shot at macarons. The texture seemed appropriately delicate and the flavor was good, although the almonds kinda overpowered the vanilla beans. I’m already daydreaming about new combinations to try next time.

Wishing you all a deliciously happy 2011!!!!

Happy New Year!

Visions of sugarplums

The newly minted Top Chef Just Desserts season has kicked my sweet tooth into overdrive. (What’s with all the drama, by the way? An open plea to Top Chef producers – PLEASE just stick to the food. Leave the whining, bitching and bipolar episodes to Hell’s Kitchen. I expected more a little more from you. Here’s hoping you’ll redeem yourself with Top Chef All Stars…)

The holidays demand sweets. That’s just all there is to it. When I was growing up, one of the events I most looked forward to was our church’s annual holiday tasting party. Each year on the first Sunday evening of advent, the church played host to a huge seasonal program. Following the big show, the tasting party would take over the basement to offer table upon table laden with every imaginative use of sugar one could fathom. All created by the loving hands of the church ladies and you know as well as I do, no one cooks like a church lady.

Here how’s it worked:  you’d grab a paper plate and troll the aisles, loading up with anything that struck your fancy. Cookies, brownies, buckeyes, cupcakes, Rice Krispies treats, bars, chocolate-covered whatever, sweet Chex mix, corn flake wreaths, peanut butter fudge, butterscotch chow mein noodle haystacks… good grief. It’s enough to send me into sugar shock just thinking about it. Looking back, I’m not sure how it was successfully managed, but it was. I don’t think actual fights broke out over the last item on any given plate, but the potential was definitely there. I do seem to remember an awful lot of hyper children running around that basement.

Every year around the first of December, I start sorting through my cookie recipes, intending to recreate some old favorites and maybe try a few new ones. I even picked up a jar of red and green holiday sanding sugar at Michael’s the other day in anticipation of this year’s baking extravaganza.

I’d like to try my hand at sugar cookies and gingerbread men, but I’ve traditionally not had good luck with these kinds of dough. In fact, the last time I attempted to make gingerbread men, I recall spending an entire afternoon painstakingly mixing, rolling, cutting, decorating and baking them, only to bite into one and discover that it tasted like nothing but straight-up flour. Bleh.

To me, nothing says Christmas like the winning combination of chocolate and mint. (It even brings back fond memories of mixing up mugs of peppermint schnapps-spiked hot chocolate in my IU dorm freshman year.) I’ve got a wickedly decadent recipe for crème de menthe brownies, and another for double chocolate chip cookies with crushed candy canes that I plan on dusting off within the next week or so.

Creme de menthe brownies

I’m all for collecting other ideas and suggestions. If you’ve got a favorite cookie recipe, holiday or otherwise, feel free to post as a comment below. In the meantime, here’s a recipe I made several times last year to much acclaim. It’s super easy, doesn’t require many ingredients to fuss with, and is consistently delicious. Enjoy – and bring on the sweet eats!

Cookies ‘n creme fudge

3 (6 ounce) packages white chocolate baking squares

1 (14 ounce) can EAGLE BRAND® Sweetened Condensed Milk

1/8 teaspoon salt

3 cups crushed Oreos (it could be fun to experiment with other cookies as well)

In a heavy saucepan over low heat, melt the white chocolate squares, sweetened condensed milk and salt. Remove from heat and stir in crushed cookies.

Spread evenly into a wax paper-lined 8-inch square pan. Chill 2 hours or until firm.

Turn fudge out onto a cutting board; peel off the wax paper and cut into squares. Keep refrigerated until ready to serve.

In the scone zone

I have a couple go-to recipes that I, uh, go to when it comes to baked goods. Through a long process of trial and error, I am proud to say I have pretty much perfected three treats – chocolate chip cookies, mini-cupcakes and scones.

My secret to great chocolate chip cookies is the use of brown sugar instead of white and the addition of a box of instant pudding mix to the batter. That and not overbaking them. I like my cookies soft, not crunchy, and these three things seem to do the trick. Plus, you can experiment with different pudding flavors for interesting combinations. Banana flavored pudding with the chocolate chips and some pecans thrown in makes for an especially tasty cookie.

For the cupcakes, I rely on Ina Garten. Any recipe of hers that I’ve made has been fabulous, primarily because she is not at all shy about butter. I was introduced to her delicious coconut cupcake recipe four or five years ago, the first time I assisted my chef friend Jennifer. She made them as part of a dessert buffet for a wedding dinner she was catering, and they were a relevation. The mini-versions were adorable, tasty and looked perfectly bridal with their little white caps of shredded coconut. I’ve been using the basic buttermilk-batter cake recipe ever since and tweaked it with all different kinds of additions – vanilla bean and coffee, crushed oreo cookies, peanut butter and mini chocolate chips to name just a few. It’s never let me down. I always make the mini versions because at parties and on buffets, a full-size cupcake can be something of a commitment. Plus, you can eat three or four of the mini-cupcakes without feeling guilty.

Thinking back, I’m not sure when I first became acquainted with scones. They’re still not always an immediately recognizable item here in Indiana, I find. Many people have only come across them in the glass counter at Starbucks. Having had real-deal scones in England, I can tell you that the versions you get here in America aren’t quite the same, as is usually the case. (My husband would argue that the European version is better, of course, but that’s a whole other blog…)

Basically, scones are like a triangular sweet biscuit. My default scone recipe comes courtesy of Semi-Homemade by Sandra Lee. Not one of my favorite Food Network shows or personalities, but I happened to spot her making these years ago, downloaded the recipe and have been using it to great success ever since. I don’t think I can post the recipe here due to copyright reasons, but you can find it under “Mocha Chip Scones” on the Food Network web site if you’re so inclined to look it up.

Sandra’s scones are pretty easy to make, as you’d imagine according to the name of the show. You use Bisquick baking mix to simplify things for yourself. Not that it’s exactly strenuous to measure out flour, baking soda and salt, but whatever. You simple create the dough, pat it out by hand into a large disk on a floured board, cut it into wedges and bake. You can brush the scones with egg wash and sprinkle them with sanding sugar to make them really pretty, if you’re so inclined. If you’re feeling lazy, you could probably just drop the dough by large spoonfuls onto the baking sheet. Either way, they turn out yummy and are perfect for dunking into a cup of coffee.

Again, once you get the basic recipe down pat, it’s super easy to tweak it according to your own tastes and preferences. Sometimes, I’ll leave out the coffee and throw in orange zest instead. Or drizzle them with sugar glaze or ganache. I once tasted a chocolate chip and rosemary scone at Tulip Noir that was fabulous. You can also make savory versions with cheese, herbs and spices for a great alternative to boring old garlic bread.

Here’s my latest scone effort – chocolate chunk and cranberry. Ever the purist, hubby turned up his nose at the cranberries and picked them out, but I thought they were great and very Christmasy.

Chocolate chip cranberry scones

Speaking of Christmas, still trying to decide what to make for dinner tomorrow… guess I’d better get to work scouring the cookbooks. Ta!